Rain
by CSI Dork
Summary: A newly appointed detecive at the LVPD learns first hand whether the rumours about the 'brilliant' CSI team are deserved.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N~ This is just something I wrote randomly a couple of years ago and found again on my laptop which is why Grissom is still present and Greg will not be represented as the more serious character he has become in latter seasons. I read the chapter and felt motivated to post it and will hopefully finish the next chapter and maybe even the whole story (once I remember what I was going to write in the first place!). _

_Hope you enjoy this little taster. _

_CSI Dork 2009. _

**Rain**

**© CSI Dork 2009. **

**ONE**

The pounding drops of rain that were encompassing every available object be it carbon based or inanimate, showed no signs of letting up. The phrase 'soaked to the bone' seemed an understatement at this present time. Soaked through to the nuclei of every cell of her bone marrow may have been more accurate. However this was not a random thought she felt inclined to enlighten those that shared her current state of over-hydration with. It seemed as though few people cared for the weather - as though it were an after thought. She almost half expected someone to announce in surprised realisation that the precipitation was even present.

But no-one really spoke. Save for a murmuring of one or two patrol officers complaining about the quality of their coffee, the few people who had arrived at the scene shortly after herself were silent. Looking fixedly into the shallow hole that had been unearthed, they reminded her humorously of stereotypical road workers looking down a hole and not actually achieving anything.

Becoming somewhat jaded with the tedious behaviour of the strange group to which she had not yet been formally introduced but had heard a faint whiff of a rumour of their brilliance, she began drifting off in a state of reflection. It had been a stressful shift so far with over-sexed deviants groping her backside, proposing indecent rendezvous' and angry mothers screaming that their child had done nothing wrong after being charged with attempted manslaughter for kicking ten bells out of some poor teenager for the sake of five dollars.

All in all it had been a difficult night and she was only four hours into her first shift as a detective at the Las Vegas Police Department. Somehow getting stuck in torrential rain with irate patrol officers suffering from caffeine withdrawal, and forensic scientists who ought to have chosen a career in highway maintenance and saved themselves the college fees, seemed to be something that perhaps she ought to have at least expected. Or at least ought to have been in the job description.

There was a ripple of an attention shift as the lead criminalist moved as though he were going to speak. For some reason, the word of this slightly shorter than average, somewhat portly man was so valued that even the bored policemen wanted a piece of the action.

Before the much anticipated words even began to leave the mans lips, the pounding of the rain was overshadowed for a moment by heavy squelching footfall as another, younger, man with tousled hair plastered to his face by the rain and Converse trainers upon his feet appeared. His arrival was somewhat undignified by his slight stumble as he overcompensated to slow himself down in his haste which was met with a disapproving look from the older CSI who clearly had been waiting to have his say.

'Sorry I'm late, the car wouldn't start. What have we got?' the young man asked all in one breath taking a peek into the hole.

What was it with scientists looking into holes she wondered, edging slightly closer to get another look of the incomplete skeletal remains of an as yet unidentified victim. They were still partially buried and even though she was not a forensics expert herself, she knew that access couldn't be easy with the rain pouring down.

'Poor guy, he's soaked to the bone,' the younger man quipped, looking from his superior to his other work colleagues. The joke was met with silence.

She sighed and brushed wet hair out of her eyes.

Tonight was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N - O.K, here's offering number two. This story is going slowly but there is a reason for that. Hope you enjoy. **

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Rain

Chapter 2

(C) CSI Dork 2009

The witness' eyes were wide and his mouth turned up slightly at the corners as he shook slightly, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. As morbid as his excitement appeared, she could understand his reaction. The adrenaline rush from falling into a small crater in the ground containing human remains was bound to incite slightly mad behaviour in even the coolest of characters. Not to mention the fact he couldn't have been more than twenty one years of age, still studying in college and the number of poor uninterested women he was likely to try and impress with his tale the next time he hit the student bar.

She sighed and cleared her throat giving the man a signal that his rapid recall of the events leading up to his discovery were unnecessary in the immense detail he was providing and not helping her in getting back into the warmth of the police station any time soon. He stopped talking and exhaled a large sigh of relief as though he were trying to calm himself.

'So, you were trying to get in shape to impress this…Andrea?' she clarified impatiently.

'Angela' he corrected with a love sick sigh. 'She's so hot.' His eyes took on a glazed look as he undressed her with his imagination.

'Yeah, whatever. So you were out jogging at…' she checked her watch and did the math. '…one in the morning?'

He looked at her blankly as though it were the most normal thing to be doing at such an early hour. Slowly his facial expression changed in realisation. 'Oh, yeah, I work nights over at MacDonald's and decided to run home.'

'Ok, so then what?' she questioned, making no attempt to hide her disinterest in his lame life, despite being a student once herself. A long time ago she thought briefly before asking him to repeat what he had just said given that she had momentarily gotten lost in an unpleasant memory and had taken no notice at all.

'I was running…'

'We've established that. To impress Anita…'

'Angela.'

'Whatever.'

'Anyway one minute I was running, the next I'm down a hole face to face with that.' He jerked his head slightly towards the crime scene.

'And you didn't see anyone else?'

He shook his head.

'Ok, if we need you for anything else we'll be in touch.' She sighed as he nodded and walked away, whipping his cell phone from his jeans pocket.

'Dude, you will not believe what just happened to me….' His voice trailed off as he got further away.

How nice that people could be so predictable, she thought sardonically before the invisible scar of another old memory throbbed for the briefest of moments. If only she had possessed the same ability to read people back then. Life would be so different, she would be so different.

Shaking lingering raindrops from her brunette hair she shivered at the cold. Something about miserable weather and crime scenes always brought her mood down, left her procrastinating over that which could not be changed.

She flipped her notebook closed and shoved it roughly into the pocket of her coat with another sigh. Cases like this were not easy to solve especially in weather like this. She ran her hand through her hair and tried to squeeze out the rain as she wondered when she became such a cynic. She had assisted in achieving convictions on tougher cases than this before.

'Hey,' she was pulled from her thoughts by a slightly familiar voice. Looking up she realised it was the younger CSI.

'Hi,' she muttered in response, hoping this was not going to be as mundane as the conversation she had just had with the college student.

'I'm Greg Sanders, CSI, you're the new girl in town huh?'

She raised an eyebrow disapprovingly at his use of the term 'girl'. His bright, expectant expression dissolved and she saw him begin to mentally attempt to back track.

'Sorry, figure of speech, obviously you're not a girl. I mean, lady, woman, you know, you're new to the department and I just wanted to –'

Unable to bear watching him suffer any longer, as amusing as it was becoming, she stretched out her hand and introduced herself.

'Rachel Rockwell, detective,'

'Nice to meet you,' Greg seemed to have relaxed a little as he accepted her handshake.

'So, what do we have so far?' Rachel asked, turning and heading towards the cordoned off crater.

She could hear the squelch of his trainers in the mud as he quickened his pace to keep up with her stride. All she could think of was getting back in the warmth, typing up her reports and getting an ID on the body. Time seemed to be dragging today and everything was an irritation - including the over zealous CSI who was, once again, rambling on but was not succeeding in telling her very much. Bones buried in a shallow grave, she could have deduced that one herself!

'Is there anything unusual about the remains?' she finally asked, stopping so abruptly that he collided with her.

'Sorry,' he mumbled, awkwardly.

Before she could think of a sarcastic comeback, they were interrupted by the arrival of the oldest of the CSI's, a man she knew by reputation alone. His face wore a weary but focussed look as he carefully manoeuvred the treacherous wet ground towards them.

Rachel looked at him and smiled, reaching her hand out to shake his.

'Mr Grissom, it's an honour to meet you. I've heard a lot about your work, I'm interested to see if the rumours do you justice,' she said.

'Likewise Ms Rockwell, I understand you have quite a high record of successfully solved cases yourself,' Grissom countered. 'I hope your reputation isn't unfounded either.'

'It's not,' Rachel shot back confidently. She was not prone to boasting but she wasn't one to dither about being unrealistically modest either.

Beside them Greg let out a low whistle of incredulity. Grissom simply looked at him sternly. Greg cleared his throat and remained quiet. The sound of the hammering rain that had been driving down constantly all night began to lighten somewhat and added an air of hope to the atmosphere.

'In answer to your question, define unusual. This is Las Vegas,' Grissom began, leading the way towards the edge of the crater where two more CSI's carefully dug around the bones. 'A normal case is unusual.'

'So is this case any different?' Rachel asked confused by his ambiguous response. Was he simply enlightening her as to how things were different here in Sin City or was he suggesting something was off about these bones?

'Take a closer look, see for yourself,'

Grissom gestured towards the bones which were now much more visible. Upon her first glance, Rachel had seen only the skull, neck and shoulders. In just over an hour the CSI team had unearthed a much larger portion of the skeleton. She scanned the area with her eyes, looking for whatever Grissom had discovered.

'I'd say missing hands were unusual,' Grissom said. 'Wouldn't you?'

Rachel ignored the gasp she heard fall from her lips as she stared at the skeleton beneath them. The radius and ulna bones of each arm were twisted at unsightly angles where the hands had clearly been hacked off in a less than delicate manner.

A crack of lightning lit up the eerie sight for a split second as Rachel felt an ice cold swell run through her. The rain that had threatened to lighten up suddenly felt heavier and colder with each drop that struck her as she remained frozen to the spot.

'Ms Rockwell, are you alright?' Grissom asked his tone suspicious.

Unsure whether she was answering his question or just vocalising her own terrified realisation, she spoke aloud.

'He's back.'

Thunder rumbled overhead.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N - Hey all, thanks to the people who are still reading/adding this story to their alerts page. I'm sorry its been so long since an update, don't have regular internet access (I know, so prehistoric!) Anyway, hope you like this chapter, its a bit of a filler because I am building up to something but as I said back at the start of chapter one, I am kind of making this up as I go so I'm being a bit more careful with it. Hope you like it and it keeps you interested, I promise Chapter Four will answer some questions!!_

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(C) CSI_DORK 2009

**THREE**

'_Rockwell, are you alright?' _

_The concerned voice of her colleague was carried away by the fierce wind that swept over the hilltop. It did not matter much. Her heart thudded so loudly in her ears she could barely hear a thing anyway. Her stomach fluttered and she swallowed the bitter flavour of bile rising in her throat. _

'_Rockwell?' _

_David placed his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to gain a response from her. Rachel felt the familiar spark that shocked her every time she made contact with him, despite the horrific tableaux she found herself gazing upon. Mentally scolding herself for being unprofessional at a crime scene so early in her career, she suddenly lost her hold on the vomit that had been teasing the back of her throat for the last thirty minutes. _

_The contents of her stomach drenched his shoes effortlessly as her knees quivered and she fell to the floor. _

_As she felt the first stages of a faint passing over her, her eyes flickered over towards the body. The severed stumps, where the hands had been, looked unnaturally bright in the dull light of the approaching evening. Her stomach twisted again, this time painfully as there was nothing left for her stomach to expel. _

'_Rachel?' David spoke again this time using her first name. He was holding her behind her shoulders, trying to prevent her falling completely to the ground. She winced internally as she tried not to be amused by the irony that this was not how she imagined her first time in his arms might feel. _

'_Rachel?' his voice was strained with worry now. _

_*** _

'Rachel?'

The hand on her shoulder brought her back to the present with a jolt. She lifted her face from the keyboard of her computer whilst instinctively grabbing the hand from her shoulder and slamming it to the desk, pinning the owner down.

'Whoa, steady there,'

She looked up to meet the bewildered face of Greg Sanders. Clearing her throat, she relaxed her grip on his hand allowing him to pull it away.

'Sorry, force of habit,' she mumbled awkwardly looking towards her computer screen feigning sudden interest in the words on the screen although, in her slumber induced confusion, she had forgotten for a moment what she had been looking at in the first place.

'No worries. Were you burning the midnight oil there?' Greg asked, rolling a chair over from the desk adjacent to Rachel's and sitting himself beside her.

A quick scan of the room informed her that the six other detectives that shared her workspace were still out, no doubt involved in one of many crime scenes that would appear during a typical night in Las Vegas.

Rachel cleared her throat again and took a swig from the coffee mug beside her. The bitter taste of stone cold coffee repulsed her taste buds and she almost spat it out. With a sigh she placed the mug back down on the desk and focused her attention on the screen before her.

'Yeah, I guess, what time is it anyway?' she rubbed her eyes, trying to relieve the tension stabbing behind her forehead.

'Um,' Greg consulted his wristwatch briefly. 'Four in the morning.'

'Great, at least I didn't sleep through my whole shift,' Rachel would have laughed if it weren't for her lack of energy and the knowledge that there was no way she wouldn't be pulling overtime this week.

'So I came over to see where you got to – you left the crime scene pretty quickly,' Greg said taking holding of the computer monitor and turning it to face him.

Rachel reached for the monitor and returned it immediately to its original position. Greg looked at her, a puzzled frown across his face.

'Don't do that again,' she said simply before reading the file in front of her.

'OK, you don't have OCD,' he said sarcastically. 'So what _do_ you have?'

She chose to restrain the cutting comeback she had ready and waiting.

'I've been reviewing all the cases that fit the same M.O' she explained, gesturing towards the file. 'There have been seven cases that I know of - victim buried in a shallow grave, hands always missing. Usually they are found before they become skeletal like tonight's cadaver.'

'Seven that you know of?'

Greg's tone was a hybrid of curiosity and awe. He was still fresh enough to the job to be impressed with the level of experience she had. Rachel occasionally found herself mourning the days when she had that type of innocence. Now, experience felt more like an invisible millstone around her neck that just got heavier with each new case.

'The first case was fifteen years ago, a nineteen year old male in Chicago. Shallow grave – '

'Severed hands?' Greg finished the sentence for her.

Rachel nodded and minimised the file on the screen revealing another hidden behind it.

'The same thing happened again three years later.'

'Nineteen year old male?' Greg asked craning his neck to look more closely at the screen.

'No, this time it was a woman, thirty, had a husband and two kids at home,' Rachel swallowed hard, feeling the lump in her throat.

'That sucks, same city?'

'No, this time was in San Antonio, Texas.' Rachel minimised the files one by one on the computer as she listed off the rest of the locations. 'Two more were found in Dallas, Texas then Los Angeles, California and another in Miami.'

Rachel's finger hovered over the mouse button, ready to click. She could feel Greg had moved closer towards her to get a better look at the screen. From the corner of her eye she could see that his attention was glued to the screen, waiting for the next horrific detail with a professional curiosity that he clearly possessed naturally. When she failed to move on to the next case, he broke the silence that had descended over them.

'That's six.'

'What?' Rachel was not sure whether she was feigning ignorance or if the lack of sleep was causing her to be less alert than usual.

'You said there were seven cases. You've mentioned six so far. What's the seventh?' Greg asked, his tone suggesting he had not noticed any unusual behaviour on her part.

'Here, see for yourself,' Rachel said. 'I'll go get us both some coffee.'

She rose from her seat, picking up her mug. A bewildered expression passed over Greg's face for an instance before he cracked a half smile.

'So I'm allowed to touch your computer now?' he asked sarcastically.

'Don't be a smart ass all your life Sanders,' Rachel retorted with a little more bitterness than she intended.

He didn't counter her comment with one of his own. Instead he took her place in the chair and looked at the computer screen. Rachel quickly walked to the front of the room where there was a small table upon which rested a coffee machine which was never switched off.

Lifting the jug from the machine, she looked across the room in the direction of her desk where Greg sat, reading intently. His eyes flickered left and right at a surprisingly rapid rate. Rachel realised he had probably spent years of his life reading and researching. He was a lab rat after all.

She turned her attention back to pouring the first of two coffees. The room felt eerily quiet at this time of night and the liquid sounded oddly loud in contrast as it filled the mug. Looking up again she found Greg staring hard at her, his eyes wide with disbelief.

The lump in her throat felt as though it had swollen to such a size that at any moment she would cease to be able to breath. Greg glanced back at the computer screen again for a quick moment. Rachel knew what was coming next; she had seen it too many times before.

Greg's eyes met hers again, this time the disbelief was gone, replaced by the look she hated so much. Hated for the way it always managed to incite an emotional response from her.

Pity.

Rachel slammed the coffee jug back into place and left the room.

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_A/N - Hopefully I will get more chapters posted as I write them and sort out my internet connection. Hope this has kept you wanting more. Thanks for reading thus far :)_


	4. Chapter 4

**_A/N - sorry it has taken me so long to write and post this chapter. I spent too long thinking about it. I decided it was going to be a kind of character/relationship between characters development plus it gives more of a clue about what the heck is wrong with Rachel all the time LOL. I hope those of you who have followed the story thus far will enjoy it and I promise things are going to start to take shape very soon._ **

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(C) CSI_Dork 2009

**FOUR**

Rachel bowed her head over the basin in the women's bathroom. The blood pumped loudly in her ears with every harsh thump of her now erratic heartbeat. She tried in vain to disconnect herself from the feelings that came flooding back with each memory. Humiliation, anger, guilt, despair. Too many emotions for one person to handle at once. The opportunity to transfer to Nevada from Sacramento had not come at a better time. She had been hoping that distance would help her heart grow colder, help her to forget everything.

Lifting her head to look in the mirror she felt her heart give another uncomfortable thud. Thinking back to an appointment with the department shrink a week before she transferred she wondered if turning down the anti-anxiety medication had been a wise choice.

'_Rachel, taking something to help you cope is not a crime. Post-traumatic stress is different for everyone. With therapy and medication we can help you manage in a healthy way to come to terms with –'_

_She cut him off there and then. 'Don't patronise me! I'm not taking any drugs; I don't need to come to terms with anything. What's done is done.' _

'_Rachel,' the soft, calm voice that seemed just a little too condescending for her liking began to grate on her nerves even more. 'You've suffered through a great deal. Let someone help you.' _

'_You know what would help?' Rachel stood and glared at the man in the chair before her. 'Is if people would just let me be. I don't need any help!' _

_She turned and headed for the door. Within a split second of the psychologist's hand reaching out to touch her arm, she had him pinned against the floor – to – ceiling bookcase, her own hand wrapped around his throat. It took a moment or two for her to realise the harsh, angry breaths were coming from her. _

'_Of course,' the man said as she stared bewildered into his face. 'You don't need any help.' _

The tapping on the door to the restrooms regained her attention and brought her back to reality. She wondered when her life had gotten so bad that returning to reality brought her as little joy as reliving the past. The door slowly opened and Greg stood in the doorway, a cautious enquiring smile on his face.

'You want to grab a beer?'

Being the last thing she expected to hear from him after what he had just read, she didn't hesitate to respond with a startled but urgent nod.

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The bar was stereotypically lit by dim lights with a couple of pool tables located on the far side by the juke box. She half expected to see a group of bikers placing bets but judging by the attire of the majority of the patrons, the pub was frequented by several members of the LVPD.

'I think this place is the unofficial, official drinking place of the entire police department,' Greg leaned close to her ear to whisper, taking the thought right out of her head. 'Probably the safest bar in Las Vegas.'

'Then why are you whispering?'

Greg chuckled and moved away. 'Just one of those things you don't announce in front of the bar man I guess.'

He walked towards the bar, nodding a greeting to a couple of drinkers sitting around a table. Rachel dubiously followed him. As calm as the place was, it felt too sociable for her liking. She couldn't remember the last time she had gone for a drink with a colleague.

'Hey Sanders, how things?' The barman shook Greg's hand before asking 'The usual?'

'You know, same old,' Greg smiled and perched himself onto a bar stool. 'Two of the usual today, Mac.'

The barman eyed Rachel curiously as she slid herself onto the next stool. He glanced back at Greg and raised an eyebrow suggestively but turned to get two bottles from the cooler without saying anything.

'Don't mind him,' Greg shook his head amusedly.

'I'm a big girl, I'm sure I can cope,' Rachel shot back sarcastically.

Mac placed the two beers down on the counter and took the money Greg handed him. Greg rose from his seat and nodded his head in the direction of a quieter part of the bar. Rachel heard a chuckle from the barman behind them. She was preparing herself with a comeback before Greg beat her to it.

'Grow up, Mac. We're talking shop and you bartenders have big ears, get what I'm saying?'

Mac threw his hands up in mock-intimidation. 'Point taken.'

Greg laughed and led the way to the table at the back of the bar. Rachel couldn't hide the smirk that crept onto her face. Greg took a swig of his beer before shooting a puzzled frown in her direction.

'What?'

'Nothing,' Rachel laughed, rubbing a finger on the label of the bottle, watching the condensation dribble onto the hardwood table top. 'Not what I expected from you I guess.'

He exhaled an almost silent laugh and became preoccupied with the label of his own beer bottle. He picked at the edge of it until it became ragged and the cold of the water made it soggy.

Rachel began to wonder exactly why this drink had been suggested. At first, she had thought perhaps it was his way of telling her she didn't need to explain anything – a distraction from the awkwardness – but now she was considering that maybe he was waiting for her to talk. Despite the reasonable volume of the few drinkers' conversations and the throb of the bass from the juke box, the bar felt oddly quiet.

Whatever Greg's motive, Rachel was not in the mood to talk about anything. She could not muster even the most mundane of subjects to distract from having to discuss more serious things.

'Look, we all have our demons,' Greg said suddenly, causing Rachel's breath to catch in her throat. Here it came; he was going to make her talk.

'Greg – 'she began desperately thinking of something to say in her defence before he could get her to open up.

He held up his hand and stared hard at her. 'No, let me finish, please.'

Rachel refocused her gaze back to the table top as he continued to speak.

'We've all got something in our past that haunts us, you know. We've all experienced things we can't help blaming ourselves for - '

'So?' Rachel shot back suddenly interrupting him, feeling the heat of anger begin to warm the back of her neck.

'So you don't have to feel like you're the only person in the world who's gone through this,' Greg said quietly, his voice wavering as he picked up on her change in mood.

Rachel stood abruptly, her seat moving back noisily. The heat that had slowly crept up on her now seemed to have encompassed her entire body and she was aware that if she opened her mouth again she was going to cause a scene. Holding on to what little composure she had left, she turned and walked hurriedly towards the exit. The drinkers Greg had waved at when they first came in looked at her curiously as she stormed past their table. She heard Greg's voice calling to her to wait as she slammed the door behind her and strode into the parking lot.

The rain which had stopped between the ride from the station to the bar had returned with a vengeance. Large drops pelted down and she was drenched in a matter of seconds, the same amount of time it took her to realise they hadn't got here in her car. At a loss at what to do, she stood in the middle of the parking lot allowing the rain to drench her even more. She wondered if perhaps she were hoping that if it rained on her enough, it would wash everything away.

'Rachel,' She heard Greg behind her but didn't turn.

'What?' she snapped whilst wishing that he would just go away.

'I was trying to help. I meant what I said, there's always going to be someone who can understand – '

She whirled around to face him so quickly she almost lost her balance.

'You condescending son of a bitch!' her voice carried over the sound of the rain. 'You have no idea, you know nothing about me!'

'I'll bet I know a lot more than anyone on the team now. How long were you hoping to keep this quiet?' Greg countered, the wary expression on his face out of synch with the determination in his voice.

'It's nothing to do with you,' Rachel shouted before internally scolding herself for not coming up with something more original to say.

'Now it is!' Greg took a step forward before lowering his voice. 'I'm not asking you to talk about it but we can't ignore it. It's relevant to the case.'

'Whatever!' Rachel could hear herself almost screaming now. 'Just don't throw that 'I know how you feel' crap at me ever again, alright? This is my problem; I'll deal with it my way!'

She turned and began striding across the parking lot again. She didn't care how long it would take; she was going to walk back to her car. It would give her time to calm down, to convince herself that this anger was no different to all the other outbursts she had had since everything changed, that it was nothing to do with the fact that Greg Sanders – a man she hadn't ever heard of twelve hours ago – was close to getting her to crack.

'I doubt that very much!' Greg shouted after her, sounding genuinely incensed.

Rachel stopped in her tracks, the fury thumping in her veins. Who the hell was he to question her? He didn't know her. She turned around to tell him just that as he started to speak again.

'You will never deal with it until you stop blaming yourself.' He crossed the space between them quickly and stared hard at her.

'You didn't kill your sister.'

She responded in the only way she knew how, the way she had trained herself ever since being called to the crime scene two years ago and seeing the bloody mutilated mess that had once been her younger sibling.

She slapped him hard across the face.

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**PS - Please don't hate Rachel too much - she has issues!! :) Hope this cleared up a bit of the mystery. More to come very soon. Watch this space.... **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N - ooh get me, two chapters in one week. This chapter is more about bringing the team back into it with a lighthearted Grissom moment at the end as the last few chapters have been quite intense (or maybe that was just the stress of writing them!) **

**Thank you to those of you who have reivewed - it's nice to hear as I get very self conscious about my writing (it's never good enough LOL).**

**N.B - I have not included Sara or Warrick in this fic so far as I am a little vague myself about the time this is happening as Grissom is still part of the team so for the sakes of artistic licence or whatever, we will assume they are both working a different case or attending a conference or something LOL. Sorry I know thats a cop out!**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

**Happy Halloween (make sure you keep the rock salt handy just in case - sorry I am a hee-uge Supernatural fan as well!)**

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**FIVE**

The small room was illuminated only by the light from beneath the large rectangular table casting an eerie glow upon the faces of the four people that stood around it. With their heads bowed and their attention focused upon the systematically placed crime scene photographs and case notes they appeared almost statuesque.

Grissom spoke first, his voice quiet as though he were conscious that any sudden interruption might distract his team from thinking clearly.

'Let us recap. Where are we starting from, Catherine?' The light shining upwards from the layout table highlighted some of the grey in the whiskers of his beard as he moved his face in the woman's direction, inviting her to speak.

'This is our victim, found last night. May have been there for some time. We're still waiting on an anthropologist to confirm the details but Doc Robbins believes the time of death may be approximately eighteen months ago. There is evidence to suggest this may not be the perp's only victim.' Catherine tilted her head in Greg's direction, her jaw set in an expression of unease.

'There have been seven other similar cases in the past fifteen years. Corpses with the hands removed, all found in various states of decomposition although ours appears to be the most skeletal remain found.' Greg gestured towards the case files arranged neatly into eight columns with relevant photographs on display beside them. 'Each case occurred in a different state apart from those found in Texas where three were discovered, same M.O,'

'Is there a pattern to the choice of state, city of county?' Grissom interjected for the first time since the start of the briefing.

Rachel chose that moment to bite the bullet and enter the room from where she had been eavesdropping on the conversation. She had spent several minutes partially listening to the facts which were already etched deeply into her mind whilst also trying to decide how to behave following last night's outburst.

Taking a deep breath, she strode into the room and placed her own copies of the case notes down hard on the table. The faces of Grissom, Greg, Catherine and another man who had not yet spoken but whose vest bore the surname Stokes turned almost simultaneously to look at her.

'There's no pattern, no order to the States he chooses to kill in, no commonality between the victims backgrounds, gender, age. I was there for the first case back in ninety-four then again for case number seven two years ago.' Rachel ignored the way her voice cracked slightly. 'There has never been any real leads as to who this guy is meaning we don't know if or how the victims are relevant to him.'

Rachel looked at Grissom to avoid having to meet the eyes of Greg or the two other CSI's whom she had barely had a chance to speak with yet. The man's head was tilted slightly to the left as he considered all she had declared as she gate crashed the briefing. The room remained silent as he absently pressed one end of his spectacles against his bottom lip.

'There has to be something. Even if there is no pattern to the choices he is making, there must be some relevance to his personal life.' Grissom said at last, raising an eyebrow, inviting Rachel to offer her opinion on his theory.

'If there had been some connection between him and the victims, surely it would have been found by now. If he had a connection to just one of them, we would have been able to trace it.' Rachel noted how the defence sounded less feeble in her head than when she verbalised it.

'It doesn't need to be a personal connection,' Stokes finally spoke. 'A killer like this has to have done some forward planning, scoped out his options, so to speak. He has to have lived in these cities for some period of time. That's the connection.'

'Exactly,' Catherine concurred. 'If we can find out who visited or lived in those cities around the time of the murders, it might give us a lead.'

The enthusiasm that replaced her previously focussed manner seemed to inflate the mood in the room. Stokes nodded fervently and glanced at Greg who had the smallest of smiles on his face. Grissom nodded thoughtfully, looking from Catherine back to Rachel.

'O.K, if we take two murders each and cross reference anything that might give us a clue about those cities at those times. Motel bookings, hospital records, phone calls –' Stokes suggested as he began collecting together the notes and delegating them between his colleagues.

'Marriages,' Greg added. 'Who's to say he didn't settle down at one point or another? I'll check trucking companies, delivery services. Anyone who might have reason to travel around a lot.'

Rachel involuntarily looked at him, impressed by his thinking. She clearly hadn't given him enough credit. No sooner had her eyes met his, he immediately looked away to scan the files in his hand. She turned to face Grissom again, hoping that her embarrassment hadn't shown.

'Don't you think this is like looking for a really small needle in a really big haystack?' she asked without thinking.

He began to walk towards the door. The three remaining CSI's exchanged rapid glances that Rachel could only interpret as some silent inside joke. Grissom turned to her, his mouth turned up at the corner in a wry smile.

'We love a challenge.'

* * *

**A/N - I feel like I am starting to get some idea of where this story is goin but it may take me some time to get it written and posted up as I don't want to mess up with the clues and such like (thats the part I struggle with!) I hope you enjoyed this installment and come back for more. In the meantime, feel free to check out any of my other fics. **


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